


SoS 2017 - Dreamscape

by Bratjedi



Series: Summer of Stancest 2017 [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Incest, M/M, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Thoughts, flashback of rape, relationship between ford and Stan is fine though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 12:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11646837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bratjedi/pseuds/Bratjedi
Summary: Ford goes into Stan's mind to figure out why he thinks the way he does





	SoS 2017 - Dreamscape

**Author's Note:**

> Roleplay between my Ford and I!
> 
> POV changes every paragraph or so

Stan smiled as he sat down on his bed, letting out a slow breath as he let the day's events sink in. He had saved his brother yet again, plus Dipper. It had been fun, he had felt great doing something for them as he always did. But did Ford thank him? No, of course not. He sighed as he thought of that before laying down. It's all he really wanted...just a thank you. Just some acknowledgment for his sacrifices. It’s the least Ford owed him right? Right… The stupid jerk was probably down in the basement messing around with how much of a ‘mistake’ he made. Sure it shook the town a bit but  _ so what _ ? He grumbled as he pulled the sheets up over his shoulder and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he slowly tried to fall asleep, trying to push thoughts of his brother  _ out _ of his head.

 

Today had been a rollercoaster far worse than most Ford had ever been on and the fact that it was an  _ emotional _ rollercoaster made it that much worse. It had started out wonderful, with him being able to bond with his nephew over  Dungeons Dungeons and more dungeons and, of course, he had to let the sentiment get in his way in offering to have his brother join in. He had thought that maybe it would be a way for them to start mending their relationship but he should have known that there was no hope for them at this point. In fact he  _ had _ known it had been stupid of him to even try and extend an olive branch out to Stanley! Of course that Oaf wouldn't have appreciated Ford's effort! Of course he would escalate things physically!

 

And yet his brother had The audacity, after all was said and done, to insist that he deserve a thank you!? Again!? He was the reason that things had gone south in the first place?! Surly he had seen that!? A thank you! Ha!

 

Ford continued to grumble angrily as he continued his work late into the night, containing the rift and looking through his journal before, just as his mind was finally pulling him towards sleep, he encountered his old journal entry outlining the way in which to enter anothers mind. his thoughts swam, and maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was something else, but...it was a tempting thought. To  _ finally _ figure out what Stanley was thinking by going  _ directly _ to the source….

 

He bit his lip for a moment before picking up the journal and moving to leave the basement. He would only do this if the conditions were right. If Stanley was asleep and…

 

...and if he hadn't thought his way out of it by the time he got to his room.

 

Stanley was finally able to fall asleep after a while, finally letting his thoughts drift off to happier things, Mabel’s excitement with his win, Dipper’s reaction to him being the hero even in the blinding light Dipper put Ford in. It was nice, it was nice to be cared for. It was nice knowing he could get it from his niblings when he couldn’t even get it from his own brother. He had hoped things could smooth over and sure he probably should've let Ford down gently when he asked about his dumb nerd game but he had been so  _ frustrated _ at his brother for having  _ yet _ to thank him. It was all he wanted, a simple thank you and he couldn’t even get that from him. Now he was going to be kicked out at the end of the summer and only had the hope that maybe he could change his mind, maybe there was just a  _ slight _ possibility Ford would realize he shouldn’t do that to his own brother but he doubted it. He doubted things would ever be fixed between them…

 

Ford could hear Stanley snoring through the door and he knew in that moment that he would be going through with this. He took a deep breath and carefully and silently entered the room before making sure to lock the door behind him. He wasn't sure how long this would take and he didn't want to kids or Soos barging in on this. He moved to Stanley’s bedside and sat down on the floor before opening his journal and easily reading the incantation within….

 

The first thing he noticed was that everything was monochrome. The second thing he noticed was the broken swing set mirroring the one in his own mind scape. The sight of it, so destroyed and decrepit, filled him with an initial rush of anger. Obviously Stanley didn't care  _ that  _ much about their childhood if he had let this fall into such disarray!

 

He turned then and almost staggered back at the  _ labyrinth _ of the Mystery Shack that stood in front of him. Surely a mind like this could only mean that Stanley have a lot to hide. Ford righted himself and fixed his jacket with a huff before going to the door. It looked like this was going to be a  _ long _ search.

 

Stan slowly opened his eyes with a yawn and rubbed at his face, weakly glancing over at the clock only for it to be a swirling mess. He frowned and sat up, looking around at his room only for it to all be...off. Wrong.    
Confusion hit him for a moment as he got up and left the bedroom, as soon as he opened the door he was met with a winding, door ridden expanse of space.    
Right...he was dreaming again. 

He sighed and shook his head, not wanting to deal with all the bullshit these dreams usually braught and turned around to get back into bed only to be outside of the shack, a hot summer day, the sun beating down on him and everything way too saturated, too bright. He shielded his eyes and frowned as he saw his brother standing there, just looking at him. 

He furrowed his brows and shook his head, his chest immediately aching with pain.    
“No, no I’m not having this dream again, fuck off” he groaned as he turned his back and tried walking back into the mystery shack instead of confronting more bullshit his mind kept piling on him.

 

Ford had been getting ready to open the door into the shack when the scene changed sharply around him, the colors and light that suddenly filled the area blinding him for a moment and by the time he recovered he was face to face with his brother, or at least a mental representation of his brother. 

Ford scoffed as he looked him over, still in nothing but his underwear which seemed to be a lazy-favorite of his. How undeniably  _ Stanley _ to dress badly even in his own mind. Not even in what Stanley  _ appeared _ to think was a dream which was definitely something Stanford could take advantage of. “And what dream would that be Stanley? The one where I  _ thank you _ for almost destroying the world only for you to realize it's  _ never going to happen. _ ” He replied, slightly seething but mostly purposely pushing some buttons in hopes of getting *answers*. 

 

Stan frowned as Ford immediately started in on him like always and he shook his head, moving over to sit down on the couch and put his face in his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. “No, that would be a nice change for once” he mumbled, then looked over at Ford again, looking absolutely miserable. “I already get enough from you awake, why do you need to always beat down on me in my dreams too? Haven’t I gone through  _ enough _ ?” he asked,  _ sounding _ miserable as well.   
“Just go away, let me sleep in peace for once. You haven’t let me in the last 30 years” he said, rubbing at his eyes as his shoulders sagged. 

 

The absolute misery on his brother's face was a bit of a surprise which almost had Ford hesitating until Stanley’s final words.“Haven't let  _ you _ sleep for thirty years!? Do you-” he cut himself short, glaring at his brother instead. He didn't want to talk to Stanley about his time in the portal, good or bad. In fact he didn't want to do anything but get the information he needed and get out. “What makes you think you even deserve a thank you anyway Stanley! You haven't done anything but put the whole world into unimaginable danger!”

 

Stan just shook his head and tilted it back against the couch, closing his eyes as he was forced to listen to his dream-brother. He winced as Ford asked what made him think he deserved a thank you before slowly looking over at him.   
“You’re right, I don’t deserve shit” he said harshly.    
He then stood up and suddenly they were in a prison cell, behind Stanley was a young Stan, clad in an orange jumpsuit which was being torn off his body, his head being held down by an inmate while another was behind Stan, pulling at the clothing while pinning one of Stan’s arms behind his back.   
Current Stan just glared at his dream brother harder.    
“All I deserve is a brother who left me to fend for myself” He said, then the scene shifted again into one of the basement, a young Ford shoving the journal at a young Stan.   
“A brother who only called me back into his life to be a taxi service for his shitty book” 

  
He clenched his fist as he glared harder, the scene shifting into one of young Ford, being sucked through the portal and young Stan screaming desperately only for it all to shake and suddenly young Stan was falling to his knees, sobbing, the burn mark on his shoulder crackling with flames which slowly consumed his entire form before young Stan fell to the side dead, a disgusting crunch of burnt flesh against hard concrete sounding through the echoing room.    
  
“I don’t deserve anything. I never have” he said, the scene around them shifting to a more surreal, decrepit depiction of outside their old house, their father with his hand around a teen Stans throat, throwing him into the streets before morphing and swirling into what was a visual mess of emotion as current Stan’s fists shook. Then he was falling back onto his seat, the both of them now in a normal looking view of the living room. He rubbed at his eyes again before looking down at his hands. “Everything I’ve been through and not even a thank you...not a hug or a ‘Oh Stan I missed you!’” he mumbled quietly to himself. “I’m glad I gave up on the thought of you  _ loving _ me a long time ago” he added painfully.

 

Ford….tried to react. Tried to bring up some emotion but everything that had been swimming around them, all the scenes playing in front of them, it was too much. He felt sick, physically and emotionally and he couldn't even bring words to form from his mouth as each scene played out. He felt both a need to defend himself, his choices, and to defend *stanley* which was stupid. It was stupid! Stanley-Stanley had brought all of this on himself! It-his life, his misery, it wasn't anyone's fault but Stan’s  _ own _ . Not  _ Ford’s _ . 

 

Stan’s final words were like a twist in a knife already lodged deeply in his chest and he almost expect to look down and see just that as he finally got his voice about him. “You have no right-” he croaked out, voice rough with emotion “you have *no right* to bring that up when you- _ you _ and you’re  _ selfishness _ and  _ idiocy  _ where what brought those event around in the first place! I will admit to my part in the portal but if you expect me to feel sorry for you for-for-” he gestured wildly around the room “then you are obviously delusional.” He swallowed thickly, a hard lump having formed in his throats as he had talked “it’s not my fault that I stopped loving you.”

 

Stan swallowed hard, his throat aching with emotion he was trying to hold in despite this just being a dream. He didn’t want to wake up crying again. He slowly looked over at Ford, his expression miserable but...accepting almost. Ford was acting strange this time around...usually he was just a hard shell of his brother, nothing penetrating the uncaring mask but this time he seemed to have more emotions, seemed to be bothered by what he saw. He furrowed his brows a little before looking down at his words, a sharp, aching pain coursing through him and the view around them distorted a little, melted. Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked down at his hands, his eyelids heavy as he sat there quietly. 

“I know” he said quietly before slowly looking up, thick tears running down his face as the scene changed.    
  
Teen Stans, sitting on the bottom bunk, hands shyly holding each other, Stan’s hand on Ford’s cheek as they hesitantly kissed each other. A couple soft kisses before teen Stan couldn’t help but start giggling which had teen Ford let out his own surprised laugh and a little, “Stop laughing!” before leaning in to shut teen Stan up with another kiss. Current Stan watched through tears, watched through shaking hands before sitting back and covering his eyes with a hand, rubbing the tears away even as he had to listen to the soft noises, the soft kisses and little comments as their younger selves explored each other for the first time.    
  


“I love you” 

 

And that was all he could take of the memory, hearing young Ford say that, mean it, was too much and he was letting out a horrible sob as he leaned forward, the world twisting into a disgusting mess as Stan held his face in his hands. 

“Im sorry, I’m sorryI’msorryimsorry” 

 

Ford knew immediately what the scene was as soon as their old bedroom came into view. He felt his whole body tense up, the lump in his throat becoming near unbearable and it wasn't until a few tears rolled down his own cheeks that he realized he was crying.

 

He needed to leave. He didn't want to see this. Didn't want to hear this. Didn't want this reminder that had  _ haunted _ him until he had found an obsession that took up every inch of his mind and pushed this away. An obsession that  _ was still threatening to destroy them all _ . He didn't have time to remember this. He  _ didn't have time _ .

 

He clenched his eyes closed as he heard his younger self tell the younger Stanley that he loved him. And he  _ had _ . God he had. He had loved him so much it had been  _ terrifying _ .  _ Smothering. _

 

Stanley started to sob, full on sob and Ford knew it was time to go. He hadn't gotten the answers he wanted, of maybe he had but he just didn't want to hear it. It didn't matter. This had been a bad idea and he needed to  _ go _ .

 

He cut the spell and gasped sharply as he ‘woke’ his body shaking slightly and tears flowing down his face. He wiped at them angrily and collected his stuff as silently as he could before quickly leaving Stan’s room trying his best to  _ not  _ think about anything that had just happened.

 

Stan was still asleep by the time Ford was sitting up, his body shaking and letting out soft sobs as he slept, his body curled in on itself as he continued to dream, continued to hate himself. 

As the door shut however he was waking up a short moment later. He woke with a start, sitting upright with a gasp and a quiet little sob before furrowing his brows and rubbed at his eyes desperately. Why did he have to keep having these dreams? Why couldn’t he just be dreamless, void of the horrors that kept him up at night. 

Why did they always have to be about Ford…

He slowly laid back down and curled back in on himself, hugging his pillow close as he tried to fall back asleep. Maybe drinking himself to sleep would help...

 

Ford locked himself away in the basement after that and he was unbelievably grateful that something seemed to be happening in town that kept everyone else away. Besides Dippers quick visit and something about an election Ford was left blissfully alone.

 

He threw himself into containing the rift and dealing with Bill. 

 

*Bill* who continued to invade his own mindscape while Ford was sleeping but *Ford* was familiar enough with the sensations now to know the difference between a dream and an *invasion*.

 

The day hadn't gone completely as planned though he found himself feeling a rush of affection and pride in his two nibblings. Their help had been immeasurable and Mabel had managed to do what Ford never could: acquire unicorn hair in order to protect her family.

 

That night though, as he categorized the day's events, his mind turned to the one other family member that had been tellingly absent the whole day. And yes, Ford knew he wasn't one to talk about *avoiding* his brother since he had been doing just that himself, but today it had been painfully obvious that Stanley was avoiding *him* in return.

 

He glanced at the clock and the time then at the stained glass window into the room he was currently occupying before sighing and standing up. He shouldn't. It would turn out just as the other night had but...with a lull in his panic over Bill and the increased chance that a rift would not be opening well...he couldn't help but think that maybe…

 

Maybe what? He didn't know. But either way he found himself silently sneaking back into Stanley’s room once again and locking the door behind him, incantation already on his lips as he sat down next to the bed and let himself be pulled, once again, into Stanley’s mindscape.

  
  


Stan had been avoiding Ford, that was for sure. After the mess of a dream a few weeks ago he couldn’t even look at his brother. It worked out fine however, Ford being one to stick to himself and avoid him anyway. He had fallen asleep a little while after enjoying himself and counting the money he had snagged from the kids. It’d been alright, they had plenty left over. Well, after he tried to get more later that night. It had Mabel laughing so it’d been fun. 

Now though he was fast asleep in his bed, having a somewhat peaceful night it seemed. No hint of dreams for awhile only for him to find himself wandering the halls of his fucked up shack. He wondered why it always looked like this...maybe the dull colors were a reflection on himself. He sighed as he tried to find something to do other than stroll down memory lane but of course he found his brother as he turned a corner.    
He tried to quietly step back and turn right back around without the dream Ford noticing but lucky him the floorboards creaked loudly under his foot.    
He sighed and drooped his shoulders before glancing over at Ford with a small frown.    
  


“Can’t we skip tonight's self loathing? I want to enjoy what short time I have left with the kids and can’t with you always showing up in my dreams” he complained, moving a hand to his forehead.

 

This time when Ford’s vision cleared he was already inside of the shack, this time in what was likely it's ‘mindscape’ forum rather than a memory. He glanced around the hall he was in, noting all of the doors and confusing twists and turns. It just showed how secretive of a person his brother had become, hiding away everything, even his own memories. Being in here now, after the last time, almost filled him with a deep sadness but he pushed it off as he started to walk. A floorboard creaked in a hall off to the side of him and he turned to see his brother, shoulders slumped and looking miserable but resigned. Ford realized, in that moment, why he was really here. He was here for a memory: one that had been eating silently away at him since last time and had destroyed him forty years before.

 

He squared his shoulders and set a determined look on his face “I want to see it. The night you broke my machine. The night you-” he cut himself. He didn't want to say too much. “Show It to me.” 

 

Stan took a step back, hating the look on Ford’s face and then winced as he demanded he relive the night that changed everything. He furrowed his brows and shook his head a little, a soft groan leaving him. “Why that one? Why is it always that one?” he sighed to himself, hugging his arms around himself before shaking his head and leaned back against the wall. He let out a shaky sigh and closed his eyes as the world shifted and morphed into one of their high school’s gym.    
He had gone on a walk, trying to calm himself after learning he was Ford’s second choice, after learning he was going to be stuck in the run down town with his father the rest of his life. He had snagged his favorite snack, trying to make the night just a tiny bit better but he ended up wandering into the gym and seeing the machine his brother built.

 

Teen Stan stopped and glared at the machine before throwing down the snack and pointing at the contraption, letting out an irritated, “This is all your fault, you dumb machine!” before slamming his hand down on the table next to the project.

As the panel came off and it started smoking, the memory Stan went wide eyed, hands going to his the sides of his head as he looked at the mistake. “No, oh no, no, what did I do??” 

He then picked up the panel and pushed it back into place, jamming the screw back in and backed up with his hands up.    
“There- all right...good as new” He put his hands on his hips   
“Probably” He added before putting up the sheet covering the invention and quickly hightailed it out of there.

 

Current Stan just let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand back through his hair, looking tired. “I didn’t know it was going to break...I was mad, all I did was hit the table...one little thing and I ruined my entire life”

 

Ford watched the scene, expecting...something but certainly not what he got. Stanley had always been hot headed but to see that he hadn't actually touched the machine was...well, souring.

 

He couldn't bring himself to look at Stanley, he simply watched the memory fade instead as he asked the other questions that were now burning in his mind. “Why didn't you *tell* me it had broken? You knew it was being judged the next day and you didn't say anything. Why didn't you just *come* to me?” He asked, he had always assumed that the answer was simply that Stanley had broken it on purpose but if he hadn't then why hadn't he *told* Ford? “I could have fixed it. I could have gone to my dream school. We wouldn't be *here* right now. Why didn't you *tell* me?!”

 

Stan hesitated as he looked over at Ford, looking surprised as he was asked questions all of a sudden. Dream Ford had never done that before, just berated and told him what an idiot he was for breaking the machine. He felt his chest ache and he furrowed his brows, frowning a little more at his words.    
He stuttered before shrugging and looking down. “I was...I was scared to. It was still moving when I put the panel back on so I just...hoped it would be alright… I didn’t want to see you mad at me” he mumbled, hugging himself harder. 

 

“I wasn’t thinking...I was so...I was so focused on the thought I was going to lose you I didn’t want to spoil our last night together before you ran off to your fancy school.” he said, the world around them shifting to when he got home in their bedroom, teen Stan nervously coming in only to be hugged by Ford and kissed. 

 

Teen Stan looked like he wanted to say something, but as Ford went on to excitedly talk about the school, the Stan just looked down miserably while Ford wasn’t looking but put on an encouraging smile when he was. 

 

As they moved in to hug and kiss again, current Stan was standing up and slamming his hand against the wall he was leaning against, the image around them shattering and splintering, a cut crossing down between the two younger ones before everything came crumbling and breaking to the ground around them. 

He let out a huff and leaned back against the wall, rubbing at his eyes again

 

Ford remembered that night, of course he remembered that night. He had been so happy. So excited so full of hope that he...he hadn't been able to stay away from Stan. His brother was the only person he had to share his joy with, his plans, his potential future with. But there had been a darker edge to that night that Ford also remembered and that, looking at his younger self, was obvious to *him*. He had been saying goodbye. Not officially but...he couldn't deny that he had been thinking that going to college, going to school, going somewhere Stanley *wasn't*, even if just for four years, would help him get over how *dependent* he had been on his brother's affections. 

 

His brother had been the only person who had ever really shown him that. Stanley had been the lucky one in that regard. People *liked* Stanley but Ford…

 

Well, he had only ever been Stanley’s freak brother.

 

“What we were doing was wrong Stanley. Illegal even. We would never have been able to keep it up. You would have found someone else eventually, you would have *had* to. We weren't meant to last. My going to college just sped things up and if you hadn't have- if it wasn't for your *stupid* temper we could have...we could have at least still been *friends*.” He tried to insist, glaring at the shattered remains of those memories. Ford knew he was lying though. He knew his younger self had planned on running away to college and never looking back. But it was because he knew, he *knew* he would never be able to see Stanley with another person and not feel pain.

 

College has been his escape. A perfect one that suited him to the T. It had been his only hope and then…

 

Then Stanley had made everything go wrong.

 

“Anything else you want to show me?” He asked after what felt like an eternity of silence but was likely only a few seconds, he would need to leave soon but he still felt he needed more of something. He wasn't sure what but he needed it. 

 

Stan was quiet for a long moment as Ford didn’t say anything, then he was furrowing his brows as he started to tell him it had been illegal. He gripped his hands tightly, glaring down at the floor as he kicked at the shattered glass around him. Then he was gritting his teeth and glaring at Ford sharply. “I didn’t want anyone else. I never did, I STILL don’t! After all of the bullshit you’ve put me through, after all of the PAIN, I still want YOU” he yelled, moving over to Ford, glass slicing his bare feet but he didn’t seem to care even as the blood seeped over the floor, soaked into the glass and made the room red.    
  
“But I was NEVER enough for you. I’m still not enough! Even though I slaved away, stupid fucking Stanley Pines, put together a god damned space portal, just to save his ungrateful brother! Because he had thought that MAYBE after, there would be some sort of relationship, some sort of SOMETHING between us, but no! You still hold me at arm's length. You still want to throw me out of your life, even after everything, all because I was scared to lose you!” he yelled, tears slipping down his face. 

 

“The kids are the only happiness I’ve had in my life since I was tossed out of our home and now even they don’t like me as much as you. But you know all this because you *are* me. You’re my mind, torturing me, over and over! You want to see more? How about your favorite nightmare, huh!?” he yelled as the glass shook and started to piece back together around them, showing the portal, the both of them in their 30’s.    
  
Stan was screaming and reaching for Ford, grabbing for his hands and trying desperately to pull him back through the portal.    
Their hands latched and Stan grinned in relief, in knowing he just saved his brother before anything bad could happen, before he could lose him, only to pull him out right as the portal cut off, Ford’s body slicing in half, organs spilling as he fell on top of him. The nightmare Ford grabbed at him, choked and scratched as he looked down at him, a constant, repetitive speech falling out of the monsters mouth.    
  
“You killed me, you killed me, you worthless horrible excuse for a brother. I could of been more, I could of been something but YOU KILLED ME” as the Stan under it struggled and screamed and begged for forgiveness.    
  
“Suffocating, worthless, idiotic, knuckle head! You should have died instead, it should've been you, YOU” 

 

And that was all current Stan could take before he was collapsing and shaking, his hands hiding his face again as he pulled his legs against himself, the world melting away slowly and back into the grey and black expanse his mindscape had turned into over the years. 

 

Ford finally turned to look at Stan as he started yelling, screaming really, and there was that knife in his chest again, being twisted and twisted and twisted and *of course* he would have to bring their niblings into this, of *course* he would but Ford wasn't going to apologize for getting to know them! He opened his mouth to yell right back, to yell that Stan wasn't thinking logically about this! Only for the images around them to change, for his basement and the portal to be conjured up and for a familiar scene to start to play.

 

Only it didn't stay familiar for very long and Ford watched with a look of horror as the scene played out. He could tell what was going to happen before it did but it still didn't prepare him for the *gore* of it. His stomach lurched and he tried to look away, hoping that that was the worst of it but no, no of *course* it wasn't.

 

“Make It stop” he whispered, feeling like if he opened his mouth any more he might throw up but it was obvious Stan wasn't hearing him. “Stanley make it stop!” He yelled even as Stanley collapsed and the nightmare faded and even then Ford was certain Stanley still hadn't heard him.

 

He collapsed too against the wall, only just managing to hold himself up and keep from sliding to the floor as he took a number of deep breaths. The nightmare had been so *vivid* and, god, the *words* his dream self had spoken with such *hatred*. Was that truly how he sounded to his brother?

 

His own mind flashed to his early years at college and at gravity falls and the words he had both thought and written about his brother and a second knife stabbed into him because he had given Stanley no reason to think any different.

 

He should probably leave now, but instead he let himself slide down the wall to sit silently at his brother's side, feeling like there were a million things he should say but being incapable of thinking up a single one. He finally settle on “your feet are bleeding…” his mouth automatically stating the obvious as he looked down at Stan’s bloodied feet. 

 

Stan held himself for a long time after that, just trying to relax. With how many times he’d had to go through the nightmare, he should of been used to it by now, but no. It still got to him, the words still hurt. After a moment he tilted his head back against the wall only to furrow his brow and looked over at Ford at such...stupid words before shaking his head and closing his eyes. “What do you care?” he muttered, hugging himself closer. 

 

He looked back down at his hands again, still gently shaking before hiding his face back in his knees. He didn’t know if he could keep up with this. He’d had the thought before many times but those times he still had hope, he had hope Ford would come back and want to be a family but now? Now he was hopeless. He took in a shaky breath before hugging himself around the middle.    
“I’m surprised you haven’t told me to kill myself yet. You usually jump right on it after forcing me through those nightmares” he mumbled quietly. 

 

Ford wanted to say that ‘of course he cared’ because he *did*. He had tried to stop himself from caring for years, first burying it under anger and then under work and studies and *obsession* to the point where he had very nearly destroyed not only himself but the whole universe. Even now, back in this universe, he had again continued to bury it, bury *everything* he had been feeling for Stan since he got back, under so many layers of repressed memories and excuses that he had only just now started to face.

 

Had he not *tried* to bond with his brother though? Had he not *tried* to extend an olive branch (or a thousand-sided die as it were) only to have it knocked out of his hand? What did Stanley *want* from him!? 

 

That was a stupid question of course: his brother wanted a  ‘thank you’ that Ford wasn't able to give. *couldn’t* give.

 

Stan kept talking though, and a third knife stabbed into Ford’s chest and took his breath away, leaving him feeling panicked and nauseous all over again. Ford was no stranger to being suicidal and had contemplated it one too many time when death seemed to be the only option to escape Bill ( he had been terrified still that, even then, death would not be enough. He had promised Bill *until the end of time* and some days it was that fear and that fear alone that kept him alive). 

 

But to hear Stanley mention it. To hear him imply that *Ford*, dream Ford or not, would be the one encouraging him to die was a pain Ford hadn't been expecting from this night.

 

There was a lot he hadn't been expecting from this night.

 

“Why...did you persist?” He asked, once he was certain he could talk again, “after thirty years of those nightmares, of me telling you to...to kill yourself what kept you going?” 

 

Stan wiped at his face as he sniffed, not wanting to break down crying again even if he felt like it. He swallowed thickly and looked around the broken and gray shack, his eyes distant before slowly he was looking over at Ford as he finally talked again.    
He furrowed his brows a little with confusion at how gentle his dream Ford was being but just pushed the observation aside, figuring it was just another way his mind was fucking with him.    
  
He was quiet for a moment before speaking up in a surprisingly sure of himself tone of voice. “The thought that one day I might have a family again” he said simply, then hugged his knees as he looked down at the ground. “The thought that maybe you'd want me back in your life. The stupid thought that maybe one day we could put this all behind us and you’d love me again” he continued, his voice dwindling to a whisper by the end of it. 

 

“But then I got you back and you crushed all of it. You hate me more than ever before so who knows, after the kids are gone and you’ve kicked me out I might just do it” he whispered, eyes looking dead. “The kids wouldn’t miss me, yah know? They have you now...Their parents barely know me...mah’s dead...I’ve got nothing else so it wouldn’t be too bad. I’ve faked my death before, actually doing it shouldn’t be too hard” he mumbled as he closed his eyes.

 

“Pff, can’t tell the real you all that...You’d go on some self-righteous bullshit telling me it'd be selfish and that's ‘not what you meant’. You...he wouldn’t miss me...He was so sure to have me out of his life in high school, he’s damn sure to want me out now” he whispered. “ ‘s why I wish you’d leave me alone with these dreams...just let me enjoy what little I have left”

 

Ford felt all three knives twist and he was so sure that he was bleeding out, or at least it felt like it. “Stanley-” he started, only to stop when he realized that Stan was right. There wasn't anything he could tell his brother to change his mind. To convince him he was wrong. Stanley was so sure about all of this...and Ford wasn't sure he could *be* what Stanley needed him to be right then. There was just too much between them but...maybe the twins. Maybe Soos and the red haired girl maybe...he could encourage them to...bond a little. Show Stanley that he still had a reason to live.

 

Ford turned back to look at the grey wooden wall and just stared for a long moment. “Alright. Why...why don't you bring up some of those dreams instead. I promise I won't say anything I...just want to see.” He mumbled, wondering what good dreams Stanley had, if only so he wouldn't have to live through another nightmare. He had enough of his own, he didn't need more.

 

Stan just shook his head a little as Ford said his name, not wanting to hear him say he was right, not wanting to hear him say he should've just done it sooner, save himself the time.    
As soon as Ford was asking to see his good dreams though he was frowning at him and narrowing his eyes a little more. “You want to see the good dreams?? You haven't let me have good dreams in who knows how long!” he complained, hitting his head back against the wall with a groan. “You’re so much more frustrating in my head” he grumbled before sighing and rubbing at his face. “Just your way of trying to torture me some more” he mumbled as the scene shifted around them. 

 

They were down in the portal room again, Stan dressed in his suit and tie, bandage around his hand as he stared up at the portal, looking amazed and surprised there were hints of other people in the room but the focus was on the man stepping out of the portal. 

Dream Ford slowly took off his scarf and goggles, staring down at Stan with surprise, then disbelief only to slowly smile. “Stanley?” dream ford asked. 

 

Dream Stan just stood there shocked for a moment before moving in just as Dream Ford did and they hugged, one big bear hug as Dream Stanley let out a happy sob. Dream Ford cupped Stanley’s cheeks to get him to look at him, absolute love and relief on his face. “You brought me back? You fixed the portal- I- Stanley you did this on your own??” he sounded amazed which had Dream Stan just shrugging and chuckling as he hugged him closer, their foreheads pressing together. “I’d do anything for you Sixer, I wasn’t about to let you rot in there. I just wish it hadn’t took so long” he mumbled before they were hugging again.   
  
“ _ Thank you _ , Stanley”   
  
Current Stan just watched with a dead look on his face, his chest aching as things played out painfully slow before he just hid his face back against his knees.    
“This should be a disney film huh” he said dryly as he lifted his head again but didn’t look at the Ford to his side, eyes stuck on the Ford who was still hugging his other self

 

Ford watched the scene play out, again knowing what it was going to be the moment it started. He sighed deeply as he watched it, his heart aching and wondering if something like this wouldn't have been at least a little true if he had managed to kill Bill before the portal had opened. He could almost imagine it, being high off of killing Bill, full of life and excitement after *finally* achieving his goal and being free, for the portal home to open in just that moment, that *perfect* moment-

 

Ford didn't notice the scene start to change to fit his own thoughts, the scene rewinding to the portal again where, this time instead of Ford walking out calmly he all but stumbled out and, upon seeing Stanley, laughed happily and ran over to him, lifting his off his feet and spinning him around before pulling him in for a sloppy and overly excited kiss, reminiscent of the ones he had given Stanley their last night together forty years ago.

 

The Stanford in the dream was babbling mostly happy nonsense, expressions of joy and excitement and just general happiness and it hurt Ford to watch, to think about, because that could have been a reality, if only for a moment before Ford came back to himself, but instead...instead the portal had opened moments too soon and here they were: facing the end of the world.

 

Ford sighed and the Dream froze on the dream Stan and Ford kissing happily as Ford forced himself to stand up. It was time to go.

 

“Your brother might be a lost cause but...those kids *do* love you Stanley, and that gopher guy idealizes you...maybe focus of them instead.” He offered, not looking at Stanley as he finally cut the spell and left Stanley’s mind. The sun was near to rising by the time Ford came too and this time as he left he couldn't help but hesitate at the door to look back at his brother before turning away.

 

Stan expected to be chastised, mocked and made a fool of the moment Ford opened his mouth but as he braced himself, he slowly opened his eyes to see the world around them changing back to the beginning. He furrowed his brows, glancing down at himself, then over at the Ford at his side with confusion. He wasn’t thinking of it again? He looked back over as the Dream Ford stumbled out of the portal and he stared, confused and a little scared as things changed in his mind he had no control of. 

He had never imagined it quite like this, sure before it had been goofy and happy but recently his happy dreams were more reserved like what just played. This was...this wasn’t his. 

 

Watching, it almost hurt more. How sweet and excited the kiss was, how absolutely happy Ford was to see him. It hurt. God it hurt. It hurt so much more than what he had thought up previously, it hurt more than his nightmares. 

He was quick to look up at the Ford to his side as he stood and stared up at him with shock, then furrowed his brows at his words and as he referred to Soos as ‘the gopher guy’ he knew something was wrong.    
“Stanford--!” he started only for the figure to blink out, the world around him blinking out immediately with him. 

 

He looked around panicked for a moment to find himself back in the grey mystery shack and shook his head, holding it as he tried to figure out what just happened. That...was that- It couldn’t have been the real Ford? 

With that thought, he was suddenly waking up with a sharp inhale of breath that made him start coughing, sitting up weakly and grabbing onto the side table for support. He furrowed his brows as he looked over at the door, hand over his mouth before letting out a soft groan. Either he was going insane or his brother found some way to voodoo his way into his dreams. 

 

Ford could hear Stan waking up just as he closed the door and so he moved to his temporary room instead, sighing as he slumped down onto the couch. Each one of the dreams he had been shown ran through his head and he could feel his body reacting to each one far more violently now that he was back within it. The nausea was the most prominent of the feelings but he could feel his hands shaking too as he tried to get ahold of his emotions again. He couldn't bring himself to regret what he had just done, but he also couldn't say he had enjoyed the revitalization it had brought.

  
  


Stan furrowed his brows as he decided he needed to confront Ford about that. That was too real, it was too...too Ford. He couldn’t have imagined him up that well. He didn’t know the man anymore, he didn’t know his mannerisms, he literally couldn’t have gotten it that accurate. He let out a shaky sigh as he got up and went for the door, tired and emotionally drained but as he heard the old room’s door close, he forced himself forward. 

 

He hesitated at the door before slowly pushing it open and moving in, frowning as he saw Ford fully dressed and looking like he just sat down. He had a moment of wanting to turn back, of self doubt. If it hadn’t been him, he was about to accuse him of something he didn’t do, which would only ruin what little relationship he had. He swallowed as Ford looked at him and gently closed the door behind him. “...You learn that trick in the portal or somethin?” he asked, the same emotionally drained voice as the dream him had. There was no point in putting up his confident charade if he had already exposed himself so openly to his brother.

 

Ford looked up as Stanley came in and he honestly couldn't believe he had expected anything less. Of course he had given himself away with how he had been acting. There was no hiding the fact that he wasn't a part of Stanley’s imagination after having such a visceral reaction. “Here in Gravity Falls actually, though I never had much use for it.” He answered lightly, not bothering to put on his own self-confident mask in light of everything either. “Do you want to sit?”

 

Stan didn’t have much of a reaction to that, just sighed and closed his eyes before glancing over at the couch as he offered a seat. He shrugged a little and went over to the couch, sitting as far away from Ford as he could. He hugged himself as he looked at the ground. “You know if I wasn’t so tired I’d a punched you by now” he said with a sigh before tilting his head back against the couch.    
“...Didn’t think you’d stoop so low in...whatever this was to invade my literal mind. What were you even trying to do? Understand why I’m such a suffocating idiot?” he asked, voice quiet as he didn’t look at him.

 

Though Ford didn't like Stan’s specific choice in wording he could admit to being caught out. “Understand you. Understand your motivations. Figure out why you were so *insistent* on that thank you. Take your pick Stanley. They are all true in one way or another.” He mumbled “I suppose I deserve your anger for this though. I can admit that much.” 

 

Stan rubbed at his neck, his body sore like always and it was easier to pay attention to that then the fact he was next to his brother and they weren’t yelling for once. He frowned at his words as he looked at the ground before letting out a shaky sigh as he mentioned the thank you again. Then he was rolling his eyes as Ford said he could admit he deserved his anger before shaking his head.    
“You should try practicing that, taking responsibility” he mumbled. 

Then he was slowly glancing over at him, staring for a moment before looking back down. “So did you get your answer? I thought it was pretty obvious before why I wanted it…” he said, leaning his head on his hand as he closed his eyes.

 

“I…” Ford started before hesitating and sitting back against the couch himself, his head falling back to look up at the ceiling as he watched it slowly light up with color from the rising sun shining through the stained glass “I think you should spend more time with the kids Stanley, while you still have the chance.” He answered instead. “They both care about you a lot and I think it would do you some good to remind yourself of that.” He said. It would also give him time to sort out everything going on in his head too. That or throw himself into his work…

 

Only he didn't *have* work right now. The rift was contained, the shack was safe, for once in a very long time he actually had just that: *time*. Time to actually think about himself and...and *Stanley*.

 

He didn't want to think about Stanley...

 

Stanley sighed as they sat in silence before looking over at Ford quickly with the way he phrased it. He had to remind himself he meant while the kids were still there for summer...that is what he meant right? 

 

He swallowed and looked down before sighing again and furrowed his brows. “Yeah, yeah… I  _ do _ know they care about me, alright? All that junk was supposed to stay in my head, not  _ shared _ ” he said, glaring over at Ford lightly before shaking his head and slumping back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I ain't gunna do it… I'll see if Jimmy is open for a tag along or somethin” he muttered, more to himself than anything. “That's if the old fuckers still alive” 

 

Ford didn't know how to reply to that. Not really. There was a part of him that wanted to offer to have Stanley *stay* but-

 

But what? His main reason for not wanting his brother around had initially been the *temptation* his pressure created. He had cared so much back then but now...god now they were both so *old*. Would it even *matter* at this point? 

 

Fear, hate, ambition. They had all driven his life so much up to this point. There were so few moments of joy in it. Learning that Stanley had felt the same way about him, his first few years in Gravity Falls, the first time the portal had turned on…

 

“Were practically strangers.” Ford mumbled after what felt like an eternity. “We’re not the same people we were at seventeen. We’ve changed so much and there is just so much bad blood between us. I...can't be that person again Stanley. I can't be who you need me to be.”

 

And even as he said it it felt like a lie. Like he could *so easily* love Stanley again if he just-just *let* himself. If he stopped thinking of Stanley and their relationship as a serious of unforgivable mistakes and-

 

He didn't want to think about this.

  
  


Stan was quiet for a long time, just listening to the birds outside the window and watching the room fill with warm light despite how cold he felt. 

He was almost falling asleep by the time Ford piped up again, making him furrow his brows and sigh.

 

He glanced over at him with a frown at his words before rolling his eyes and looking away. 

Then he was quiet again before slowly he turned to Ford and held his hand out to him, a serious look on his face.

 

“Hi, my name is Stanley Pines, it's nice to meet you” he said, staring Ford dead in the eyes as he waited for a response.

 

Ford sat up and looked at Stan in surprise before looking down at his hand. “Stanley-” he started before He hesitated for a moment, his hand moving slightly as if he was actually thinking about taking Stan’s hand.

 

That was until a beeping noise filled the room coming from the hand Ford had been reaching out. His eyes widened and he pulled his hand back and the sleeve of his jacket back before cursing under his breath and jumping to his feet. “I don't have time for this Stanley. I don't have time for *you*.” He spat out, very suddenly angry as he scrambled around the room to collect his journals, pens and other materials before moving towards the door in a huff.

 

The containment field was *breaking*. He couldn't believe that he had actually thought that he had gotten everything fixed. He couldn't believe he had let Stanley distract him again. Again! After all this time and he was *still* holding Ford back! 

 

He left the room in a rush, slamming the door behind him, before rushing down to his lab. The end of the world was *still* a threat and he had to find a better was to contain it. 

  
  


Stan felt a glimmer of hope as he saw Ford’s hand twitch out of the corner of his eye but he kept his expression firm. Even as the beeping suddenly filled the room. He slowly watched Ford scramble to check his watch, then looked up at him with an impassive expression as he was suddenly yelling, telling him he didn’t have time for this, for  _ him.  _

He watched him leave, watched the door slam with just a soft reaction from him before he was looking down at the hand he had held out which now had fallen back onto his lap. 

 

He slowly leaned back into the couch and just stared down at his hand, blinking tiredly before moving to lay down and closed his eyes as the pain of it all settled on his soul. He slowly fell asleep after that, figuring either he’d die or be woken up by one of the kids. Either worked.

 

\-----

The hardest thing for Ford to come to terms with was that It was one thing for Ford to leave Stan but it was a completely different thing for Stan to chose to leave  _ him.  _ He knew it was selfish and stupid and hypocritical of him but watching Stanley chose to take this bullet for him, to sacrifice himself for him, for  _ everyone. _

 

It hurt. It hurt a lot and, for the first time in maybe ever Ford could finally see that stan’s actions weren't driven by selfishness like Ford had always assumed. They weren't driven by his own desires, his own needs, they were driven by doing what he thought needed to be done.

 

His mind supplied him with images of Stan accidentally breaking his machine when they were seventeen, of coming to his aid when they were twenty seven only to be pushed away, of working for thirty years to get him back.

 

Thirty years….

 

Ford was an idiot and he knew it. Stanley had been a hero this day, a true hero, a selfless hero while Ford...Ford had been the one who had simply made things worse.

 

He finished setting up the old projector and moved to sit next to Stanley on the arm of his favorite chair. “Alright Stanley, let's see if we can't get some of those memories back.” He smiled at him, hoping it looked more happy then sad as the projector started to play old videos of them as kids. “That's GlassShard beach New Jersey, we grew up there as kids” he started, slowly telling Stanley stories of their childhood as the images played.

  
  


Stan wanted to think he was doing the right thing, he knew he was but his self doubt told him this was his own way to commit suicide, his own selfishness wanting to be the one to take the load of it all because he knew no one else deserved to. It felt good though.

It felt good to punch the piece of shit who was trying to ruin all of their lives, to punch the piece of shit who drove his brother to madness. 

 

It had felt good and he was alright with that being the last thing he knew before it all blinked out.

That had felt good too

Now he was sat on a chair he didn’t know, in a house he didn’t know next to a man he didn’t know. He didn’t mind though, the guy was damn handsome. He found himself just wanting to look at him instead of the tapes he was trying to show him. Apparently they were related though which soured it for him a little but he still couldn’t seem to help it. 

 

He looked back at the tape and watched with slight interest, looking at Ford as he talked but wasn’t paying too close attention. He couldn’t as he looked over the man’s features, his lips, his strong jaw and his hair, hair that made him want to run his hands through it. 

He then looked down, trying to listen better as Ford told him about their childhoods, their father which even the mention of him had him frowning. He probably didn’t like the guy then? 

Then he was hesitantly glancing back up at him again, interrupting him.    
“Were we close? It looks like it but...I just...cant remember” he shrugged.

 

Ford looked over at Stan and hesitated for probably a little too long before having to look down at his own lap. “We...were very close growing up. We were pretty much all each other had. You...had a few girlfriends here and there and were pretty popular at the gym you did boxing at once we got older but growing up...well...we were ‘thick as thieves’ as the saying goes.” He said, letting out a slow chuckle before turning his hands over to look at them. “You...were the only person who didn't try and ignore or erase my...anything. Instead you embraced it even when I couldn't. We...we were going to escape that place together on that silly little boat. Just you and me. So...sorry. Sorry Stanley.” He chuckled again lightly and turned to look at him as he rubbed at the corner of his eyes. “That was a pretty long winded way of saying ‘yes’ but um...we haven't been close for a very long time.” He admitted lightly. He might be hiding the exact nature of their ‘closeness’ for now but Stanley deserved to at least know the truth about their falling out. “We’ve only just started talking again after forty years of...of distance.”

 

Stan watched him talk, listening to the way he said things and how fond he sounded. He slowly smiled a little before glancing down at his hands as he mentioned he didn’t try and ignore them. Even now he didn’t have any feeling of difference. It was just how the guy was. He looked back at him before furrowing his brows a little, a pang of...something hitting him as Ford said they were going to leave on a boat or something. He glanced back down with a little nod but frowned as he continued on to say they'd been distant for forty years. 

That got a reaction out of him, a quick raise of his brows before he was furrowing them and frowning. “40?? Did I kill your girlfriend or something??” he complained, amazed at the amount of time they had left alone from each other.

 

“It's...complicated.” Ford admitted softly, glad he had made Mabel leave this part of their summer adventure out of her story. It felt like something he should tell. “We had a fight, a bad one, when we were seventeen and...well our dad got involved and you were kicked out.” He said, stomach churning with regret. It had hurt watching Stan get thrown out, it  _ had _ but at the same time...at the same time he had also thought it was what Stanley had  _ deserved. _

 

“I contacted you ten years later. Even then I knew you were the only person I could trust, could turn to, when if felt like the whole world was against me.” He continued “and you came. Of course you did but...we both had very different ideas about how our reunion would go. I needed to give you something, something for you to take and never return and you...well I...I think you were expecting a more loving reunion.” He admitted with a sigh. “We fought then too. Violently and...there was an accident. A machine I had been working on it...turned on and I...I've been gone for the last thirty years inside of it.” He finished, knowing it was a very simplified explanation but not wanting to overwhelm Stanley with the details.

 

“You brought me back not to long ago. I...never did thank you for that.” He added softly.

 

Stan felt mild emotions wash over him, sadness, regret, anger, but not to the extent he would of if he could remember the details. He pressed his lips together as he listened, then was quiet for a long time before glancing back at him with an awkward smile.    
“Wow you uh...you sound like a dick” he said, then chuckled and glanced down. 

“I kinda...feel like I know the *feeling* of everything that happened...kind of hard to explain? Like...leftover emotion or something but I still...I dunno” he shrugged. 

 

He then looked back at Ford, looking at his face for a long moment before hesitating, then pulled his lips to the side. “Since we’re already on bad terms I guess? Was me finding you attractive apart of that in anyway? Or is this something I’ve just now admitted and now you want another 40 years apart?” he asked awkwardly. 

“Cuz uh- I keep looking at your lips and your hair and I...want to kiss you? And it feels natural? So- I don't know, sorry if it's weird I guess” he said, shrugging as he looked down.

 

He figured he didn’t know the guy so now or never before he would end up regretting saying anything.

 

Ford laughed lightly and a little sadly as Stan said he sounded like a jerk and he had to agree with that. He  _ had  _ been a jerk, but as Stan moved on and started to talk about the nature of their relationship Ford was left hesitating, not sure exactly how to approach the situation.

 

“I...have an idea.” He said after a moment as he stood up and turned off the projector. “I think it might be a better way to show you some of the more...specific details of our relationship if you are willing?” He asked, glancing over at him nervously, though it isn't exactly something we should do in the living room. I suggest we relocate to my current room instead.” He offered, holding out a hand to help Stanley up. He was finding it hard to resist not touching Stanley at every opportunity he had and so he didn't resist and simply let himself have that.

 

Stan hesitated as Ford didn’t react negatively, then rose his brows as he said he had an idea. “Uh- okay? He said, then hesitated with his words and rose an eyebrow with a little smirk before letting out a laugh, his cheeks blushing a bit. “Wow, alright- I wasn’t expecting you to take me to your room so quickly but if you think sex can jog my memory, I’m game” he teased as he took his hand to stand up, then hesitated and laced their fingers together. “Oh...I remember this. I remember I liked fitting our hands together...I liked how perfectly they fit” he said after a moment before looking back at Ford with a little smile.

 

Ford felt himself start to blush and that and coughed awkwardly into his free hand, not making a single move to untangle his other one from Stan’s grip “you may want to hold back your judgment until after I show you what I plan to show you.” Ford insisted as he lightly pulled Stanley out of the living room and towards Soos’s old break room that had become his room. “But you are right about the hand thing.” Ford told him, glancing down and squeezing their laced hands “it...was probably the only thing I liked about mine. That they fit so perfectly in yours…” he mumbled softly before shaking his head and opening the door for them. 

 

“I'm going to need to write down the incantation for you to say.” Ford said, turning back to business as they entered the room and he closed and locked the door behind them, having to sadly let go of Stanley’s hands to do so before moving over to his desk. “I lent the journal to Dipper and it's a little too late to wake him just for this. After everything the kid deserves sleep.” He mumbled as he quickly started to write the spell, thankfully still fresh in his head from using it not too long ago “Go ahead and take a seat on the couch. This shouldn't take long.”

 

Stan just shrugged at that, thinking to himself that he wanted to screw before he found out he hated him or something. He then smiled as Ford said he liked that about his hands and squeezed it back as they walked.    
Once inside and Ford was telling him he’d need to say an incantation, he was furrowing his brows, then raising one. “Ohhkay. Magic? Not really surprised so I guess that's a normal thing too?” he said, watching Ford write before moving over to sit on the couch.    
“Yeah, poor kid looked exhausted. Then again he’s always exhausted. I swear Mabel sucks all the energy out of him” he chuckled, talking about them fondly as he *did* remember them. 

 

“So what are you gunna show me? Is it an incantation for sex? Cuz that sounds like it'd be fun” he said, continuing to try and flirt with him as he smirked over at Ford happily.

 

“Is sex the only thing on your mind right now Stanley?” Ford teased half heartedly, though he still smiled as the thought as he brought the paper over. “And no, magic isn't that normal of a thing but in Gravity Falls it's not that uncommon. Here.” He said, holding out the paper for Stanley to take. “I'm going to need to be asleep for this to work, or at the very least meditating so sorry to crush your hopes but-” he said, sitting down next to Stan as he got comfortable. “This is important and it's going to be something you will want to see so just...give me a few minutes and read the spell okay?” He said, reaching out to cover Stan’s hand with his own and squeeze it lightly. He gave him a smile before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He had trouble sleeping, always had after Stanley had left, but now, after everything, he very easily slipped into a deep meditation bordering on sleep and as he opened his eyes he found himself sitting on the old swing set looking out at the wheat field that made up his mindscape.

 

Stan grinned at that and wiggled his brows at Ford “What can I say, now that I opened that can of worms I ain't gonna shut it. Plus your ass looks amazing so” he shrugged, then giggled as he came over and pretended to pout as he changed the subject. He relaxed after a moment though and turned towards Ford, looking down at the paper and furrowing his brows a little at the writing. “Well that's a bunch of gobbledy gook” he complained but took it anyway. 

He then looked at their hands, then back at Ford and smiled a little before nodding and leaning back against the couch.    
“Whatever you said, wizard man” He teased but then quieted down as Ford took a breath and seemed to relax.    
He waited for a long moment after that, not sure if he was asleep or in the right...meditative place but once he figured it was good enough, he was looking down at the paper. 

 

He began to very poorly read it but it seemed to be good enough for whatever powers put the spells into place. He blinked and squeezed his eyes closed as he felt a shift before slowly blinking his eyes open and looking around

 

“Uh...wow alright” he mumbled, taken back by just how...barren the place was. 

“Where are we?” he asked, turning to look over at Ford.

 

Ford blinked as Stanley appeared next to him and relaxed slightly seeing that the spell had worked. “You’re in my mind.” Ford told him, moving his legs a little to cause the swing to rock back and forth. “Every piece of wheat is a memory that can be accessed. It...probably isn't what most people would expect from my mind but it's worked well for me.” He shrugged “I figured that, at least in here, I could show you the memories of us that I otherwise wouldn't be able to share.” As he said that the scene shifted, it was like the scenery around the swing set they were on flew by at hyper speed before stopping on the scene of a beach where two teenage Stan’s were putting on the final touches to an old boat.

 

“I-I think we might actually be done.” A teen Ford said in awe, looking up from his book on boat building as he did a final inspection of the boat. “Stanley, I think we’re  _ done!”  _ He said, getting more excited as Stanley jumped down from the deck of the boat to stand next to him. “No shit really?” He asked, glancing into the book before giving up and shrugging “you would know poindexter! But look at her! She’s gorgeous!” Stan laughed happily and Ford quickly joined in as Stanley threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him in for a side hug.

 

“She’s our ticket out of here Ford. She’ll take us wherever we want to go as long as it's far away from here.”

  
  


Stan glanced around with furrowed brows as Ford said it was his mind. It was definitely not what he was expecting. He then looked down at the wheat and slowly sat down before poking at one, glancing over at Ford like he expected a reaction.    
He then shrugged a little and nodded “Hey whatever works- whoah fuck-” he complained as the scene around them whizzed by. “Gunna give me seasickness” he complained only to hesitate at his choice of words and the scene in front of them. “Oh” he mumbled.

  
  


He watched the teens interact, a pang of familiarity hitting him before a feeling of betrayal hit him harder. He frowned as he watched, his hands moving up to hold onto the ropes of the swing set. 

He was quiet before shifting a little. “We uh...never did sail it, huh?” he mumbled.

 

Ford shook his head sadly as the scene changed around them, moving to a bedroom containing a bunk bed that was obviously getting far too small for its occupants. Both were sitting on the bottom bunk looking over a glossy travel magazine and pointing to all the destinations they wanted to see. “No. we never did. Maybe if I hadn't...If we hadn't become what we did it might have been different but…” he trailed off as teen Ford’s smile seemed to fade slightly as he looking at his brother who was still happily looking at the magazine. Something shifted in his expression. Joy turning to shock turning to fear then turning to confusion and disgust.

 

“This was the day I realized I loved you. That I was  _ in  _ love with you.” Ford explained as the memory froze “it terrified me back then. I hadn't planned on telling you but you knew me too well. You knew something was wrong with me.” He said sadly, watching his younger selfs frozen face “I hated that I loved you. That I had become dependent on you in every way. It was...it was my main reason for driving you away.” He finally admitted, finally after forty years, but it honestly just hurt more then helped.

 

Stan sighed as Ford talked, frowning as he watched the scene shift into one he recognized as their bedroom. He smiled a little at how happy they seemed only to furrow his brows as he watched the younger Ford’s face go through a wave of emotions younger him didn’t even see. He felt sadness well up in his chest, then felt it turn to ice as current Ford talked. 

He clenched his hands on the ropes and looked down, feeling his throat tighten as Ford said he had hated that he loved him. Vague feelings and memories filled him, the feeling of betrayal and heartbreak filling him to the point he had to distract himself with the ground at his feet, kicking at it a little. 

“...Why are you showing me this stuff? Couldn’t...couldn’t we use my stupid, blank brain as a start over point? I don't want to see this” he mumbled quietly, sounding a little more like himself with the self-deprecation

 

“Because you deserve to know.” Ford answered softly turning to finally turn and look at Stanley “you deserve to know what happened to you, what happened to  _ us  _ so you can decide if this...if  _ I  _ am something you really want. I know you’re attracted to be Stanley-” and the memory shifted again, the room didn't change much but this time it was the same memory that Stanley had shown  _ him _ not long ago, of their first kiss, of their first time awkwardly exploring each other and laughing along the way “but starting something with you without you  _ remembering _ or even just  _ knowing  _ it...feels wrong. I'm sorry Stanley, but you had to know.” 

Stan frowned and slowly looked over at Ford, looking upset. He glanced back as the scene and blushed a little at seeing their younger selves kiss and hold eachother so gently. It hurt though, watching it, something in his mind telling him he could never have that again. It would all just be memories. He looked painfully down and shook his head with a sigh. “No...no, I...this is better...I’d probably end up mad if I remembered down the line” he mumbled, closing his eyes before opening them again to watch his younger self grin and kiss Ford again happily.    
  
“I’m starting to remember this...us, at least when we were younger...we were so happy” he mumbled, closing his eyes again

 

“We were.” Ford agreed sadly. They had been so happy. He wondered if, after Stanley got his memories back, if they might be able to get some of that happiness back.

 

“Is there anything else you want to see while we’re in here?” He asked, letting the memory of their first time fade away back into the rolling wheat fields. “I can't do much for our forty years apart but I can try for some of the things when we were younger.”

 

Stan frowned as he swung gently, a sigh escaping him before he was shrugging and glancing at Ford. “I dunno...anything that could jog my memory a bit more? I dont want to be flirting with you if I actually used to hate you or somethin” he said, sounding a little upset now that he realized things weren’t roses between them. He looked at the ground, not sure what to really do or say now. 

 

Ford bit his lip but let the next memory play, the gym of their old school coming into view. The memory was a little choppy and distorted but Ford let it play anyway. “This is one of yours. You...showed it to me not too long ago.” He said softly “sorry about the condition. Since it's not mine I can't...make it clearer.” He apologized as they watched Stanley get angry and slam his fist down onto the table next to Ford’s machine, causing it to break.

 

“I had this dream of going to this amazing school.” Ford explained, the image shifting until they were looking at the teen Stan’s sitting on the swings as Ford talked excitedly about the school and Stan teased him about it. “I...had become terrified of our closeness. It was starting to smother me so when I was presented with this opportunity I saw it as my only escape.”

 

The image shifted again, and this time it was Ford coming home angry, yelling at Stan and shoving him for ruining his chances to go to college and then-

 

Then their dad got involved. 

 

“I didn't do anything to stop him. Not that I could have but...I didn't even try. I didn't *want* to. I was just so angry I-I just let it happen.” The memory ended to Ford closing the curtains on a desperate looking Stanley before they were once again sitting in a field of grass.

 

“I'm sorry Stanley.” Ford mumbled, not looking at him, “there is probably one last memory I should show you but...but I understand if you would rather not see it.”

 

Stan watched and listened with slight irritation with the memories, like he could almost remember them. He frowned as the scenes shifted, frowned as Ford told him their love had become suffocating.    
He tensed as the memory shifted to their old apartment, of Ford shoving him and then- as their dad came in, he was gritting his teeth as anger and frustration filled him, his mind remembering being thrown out quicker than Ford could show him. He squeezed his eyes closed and moved a hand to his head, taking in a shaking breath as Ford’s words just made it worse. 

“I was...I was 18, Ford! You just left me- Do you know just how much shit I had to go through on my own??” he blurted before looking surprised at himself, then furrowed his brows and looked down, his arms moving to hug himself.    
“Mah didn’t do anything either...she would call and try and help but Dad always kept close...told her she shouldn’t waste her time on a waist of air like me” he mumbled. 

 

He then let out a shaky breath and looked away before shrugging. “No, show me. This is already a shitfest, you main as well” he ground out

 

“I’m sorry Stanley.” Ford mumbled softly, closing his own eyes as he let the next scene take over, the basement of the shack filling his mind before the scene played. Ford didn't say anything as it did, simply let Stan take in the scene for himself. It ending as the portal closed, Ford not wanting to show Stanley what had been waiting for him on the other side, and he simply let this memory fade too and just waited for Stanley’s reaction.

 

Stan shook his head a little as Ford said he was sorry before slowly looking up as the scene played, his memories quickly jogging up with it and as he saw Ford get sucked through the portal, saw the look on his own face, that caused most of the rest of his memories to come back, causing him to groan and put a hand to his face. 

It hurt. It hurt to watch and it hurt to remember. It hurt to know after all this time- Did Ford realize how much this hurt him now? He was being nicer about it before...He swallowed and held himself a little harder as he looked down once the memory stopped. 

“...Do you still hate me for everything I did…?” he asked, slowly looking over at Ford with a pained expression

 

Ford his his own face in his hands as he waited for Stanley’s reaction and once he did he was looking up with a number of emotions playing across his face before finally settling on regret. “I did us both a great disservice Stanley, letting my base emotions be fear and anger, especially as so much of it was directed so needlessly at you. So no I...I don't hate you Stanley. I probably never should have.” He told him sadly, looking away across the grass. “And what about you Stanley? Do you hate me for everything I've done to you? I wouldn't blame you if you did.”

 

Stan frowned as Ford talked but nodded a little as he looked down, pressing his lips together as he thought of his own emotions, his own reaction to everything he just saw and could now remember. He was quiet for a long moment after Ford’s question before he was shaking his head and looking over at him with a somber look.    
“No...Right now I feel like I should but...I know I don’t. I don’t think I’ve ever really hated you anyway...Sure youve pissed me the hell off but that's what brothers do” he mumbled.

 

He was then standing and moving over to stand in front of Ford, looking down at him with a soft expression. “I never stopped loving you either” he added quietly, knowing he needed that to be known while they were dealing with everything. 

 

Ford looked up at Stanley slowly and sighed deeply, not able to meet his eyes for long. “I don't think I ever stopped loving you either. Not really. It probably why everything that happened hurt so much. I tried to bury it, to convince myself I didn't love you but after everything...I can't deny that I was wrong. That after everything I...still love you too.”

 

Stan furrowed his brows as he watched him before slowly smiling with his words and giving a chuckle. “This is really cheesy huh?” he asked with a sigh before moving down to wrap his arms around Ford, hugging him close and closing his eyes. “You can be a real asshole” he mumbled as he cuddled into his neck. 

 

Ford tensed as Stanley leaned down to hug him but sighed and slowly returned the hug. “It really is. And I also probably deserved that.” He smiled lightly before softly pushing Stan away. “I think it's probably about time you went back to your own head Stanley but...well maybe there is a chance for us yet?” He said, looking up at him with a soft hopeful smile.

 

Stan chuckled and nodded with agreement before looking down at Ford as he was pushed back and smiled with his words. “I hope so...let's give it time so i can remember the rest of my life, huh?” He said, smiling further at Ford before sighing and closing his eyes for a moment.

 

Then he was hesitating and pouting as he looked back down at him “wait, how do I get out of here?” He asked with a dorky smile.

 

Ford laughed as Stanley seemed to not know what he was doing and finally stood up from his swing. “Just close your eyes and think about being back in your own body.” He instructed, moving in just a bit until he was a little too close. “I'll see you in the morning.” He promised, leaning in to give him a soft kiss, their first one in forty years, before pulling back. “Now go. It's getting late.” He insisted, willing his own mind to be a little more open for a second to make it easier for Stanley to go.

 

Stan smiled a little before nodding and closing his eyes, about to think about it only to hesitate as he felt Ford move closer and he opened his eyes a bit. He smiled, leaning in to return the kiss.

Then he was chuckling and nodding, his hands finding Ford's and laced their fingers together. He slowly closed his eyes, thinking about being back in his own body.

 

When he opened them he was in from of the mystery shack, his mind's mystery shack and for once in 40 years, it wasn't so broken down or monotone. He smiled with the sight and sat back in his own swing, closing his eyes and letting himself fall asleep.


End file.
